It was a point of vanity for me. One thing I felt that was pretty. I had thick, wavy, long, black hair. It was getting hot here in Iowa. Summer here is sticky, humid, and HOT. My hair was feeling heavy on my head. I wanted it gone.
Kai and I sat down. He's my sounding board. I told him how I felt. I didn't want to shave my head and my husband not find me attractive anymore. We talked and he was very supportive. "Nothing would stop you from being beautiful to me. You just are. It's in you." We looked into donating my hair but sadly, it has been dyed and processed and wouldn't survive the cleaning process. I decided, I needed to do this. I had the guts and I was going to shave my head. I couldn't lose my nerve.
Kai wanted to make sure I wouldn't regret this. I had prepped myself that I may not like it, that I may cry and hate it, that I may feel like I no longer look like a woman. That this part of me, that so defined my feelings of feminity would be gone. I had hated my hair short in the past. I felt like all that made me look womanly was gone.
So, he said we would start by cutting it. I got my sissors and put my hair in a pony. It took a minute but soon, the first hunk of hair was gone. My pony tail was no more. I already felt free! With a big smile I started to cut away the rest of my hair, to make it easier to shave. Then, we got out the buzzers. I did the first few passes, then I sat and Kai shaved my head. As my hair gently fell down my shoulders I felt more and more liberated. At one point I laid my head down on his belly and he finished shaving the rest. It was calm.
I thought I would cry. I thought I would regret it. I thought I would find myself looking in the mirror: "What have I done?!?!" Instead, I couldn't stop touching my head! It felt so widly different. I felt empowered.
I couldn't hide behind my hair anymore. Despite how often I would just throw it up in a bun, my hair could distract away from my face. It was something I felt "could still be pretty" about me. I took that away from myself, in a radical gesture of self love. I can't hide behind thinking "my hair is all that's pretty about me." I have to love myself for my face. I have to love myself for my body. I have to love myself for me.
I notice now, before leaving the house- I make more of an effort to look feminine. I've worn dresses the past several days. I have worn make up but what's more, I have carried myself stronger. Head held high. My posture is better. I stand up. I'm exposed, I'm vulernable, I'm more raw. Yet, this new version of my apperance has put in a place of freedom I have never been in.
All that from simply shaving your head? Yes. This was a step for me. It was a point of being brave. A person, who is not comfortable with themselves saying "Nope. Enough. I am beautiful, just. like. this." To some: this was simple, to others: radical. To me, this is a new experience in self love and I'm so glad I did it. I love the way my hair feels. I love that I look more striking. I am starting to love myself.
So, here I am. No mask, nothing to hide behind.
Vulernable but brave.